


Valentina Mikulishna

by on_the_wing



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Starfighter (Comic), Starfighter Eclipse, Василиса Микулишна | Vasilisa Mikulishna
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Party, Bullying, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Sexism, overtone singing, the name coincidence was just too perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_the_wing/pseuds/on_the_wing
Summary: Helios mouths off to a spoiled birthday boy and gets tossed into the dungeon. Can his big sis navigate the perils of prepubescent boy culture and rescue him without revealing their secret?
Relationships: Helios & Hayden (Starfighter Eclipse), Helios & Valentina (Starfighter Eclipse), Praxis/Valentina (Starfighter Eclipse)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5
Collections: Starfighter Summer Challenge





	Valentina Mikulishna

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2020 Starfighter Summer Challenge, day 2: Folklore/Fairytale AU. This is a somewhat shuffled-around retelling of a Russian fairy tale called Vasilisa Mikulishna.

Once upon a time in the city of New Kiev, a magnificent party was held honoring the tenth birthday of the mayor’s son Hayden. No expense was spared: there was food and drink of every kind, a whole troupe of acrobats, an edgy magician with eyeliner and piercings, a skateboarding ramp, and even live ponies from Earth to ride. Every nine-year-old boy in the city was invited, but none of the girls, for Hayden had declared girls “stupid” and “gross.”

There was at that party a poor but cheerful boy named Afon. Despite his poverty, Afon was handsome and athletic and well-liked, and Hayden—whose only friends were the sons of his mother’s political allies—secretly admired him. 

He made sure to pick Afon for his team in the paintball game, and as they and a couple of other boys stationed themselves behind one of his mother’s hand-embroidered silk and mahogany sofas (the mayor herself was locked in the solarium with a pitcher of mimosas, praying that the paint was as washable as the company claimed), Afon (a rather distractible boy) spoke up. 

“Hey! Want to hear something cool?”

 _“Shhh,”_ hissed the others.

“I can do overtone singing!” he announced. “I figured it out a couple weeks ago. Some old Earth cultures do it.” 

“Shut it!” Porthos the merchant’s son snapped. “You’ll give away our position.”

“There’s no one there right now! It’s fine. It goes like—” He began to make a strange, rough droning sound.

“SHUT UP,” everyone said (Hayden included, because if the others thought it was dumb it was probably dumb, even if Afon came up with it).

Afon pouted, but finally fell silent.

——

Their team won the paintball game, but Afon sulked. He yawned at the acrobats. He scowled at the magician. He refused to ride a pony. He barely glanced at the skateboarding ramp, and that was only to watch his best friend Athos do his latest trick.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hayden finally asked. “Are you too good for my party or something?”

Afon gave him a withering look.

“There’s no _way_ you have anything this cool at home.”

“My sister says it’s not polite to boast,” Afon told him. 

“Girls are dumb,” Hayden said with authority. 

“They are NOT! My sister Valentina is a billion times smarter than you. She could beat you all at everything and then you’d CRY.”

“Bullshit. Your sister is a DUMB BITCH and she sucks balls.”

“YOU suck balls,” Afon shouted, and punched him in the face.

Brushing away nonexistent tears, Hayden screamed the worst thing he could think of. “YOU NEED A TIMEOUT.”

"Huh?"

He whirled toward the nearest onlookers. “Throw him in the dungeon!”

——

Having just finished his turn on the ramp, Athos wandered over with a plate of snacks just in time to see three or four boys dragging his friend down the basement stairs. He ducked behind a fancy potted tree with little oranges on it, and waited until he saw them come back up. 

“What are you doing there?” Hayden asked him.

“Just chillin’. Cool party, bro. Cool tree.”

“Uh, okay. Whatever.” Porthos gave him a brief noogie to establish dominance, and the gang sauntered off.

“What the eff, man.” Athos rubbed his achey head and then slipped through the basement door.

Afon was nowhere to be seen in the well-lit, finished basement full of workout equipment and spare furniture, but it was easy to hear him shouting and banging on the closet door. “LET ME OUT, YOU FUCKERS.”

“Afon, bro, chill. It’s me.”

“Athos?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you get me out?”

He rattled the handle. “I think it’s locked. With a key.”

“Well do you see the key?”

“Umm….” Athos looked around. “…no. I mean, I would be pretty surprised to see it here. Unless that closet is just there to lock people in.”

“Ugh. Hayden probably has the key then. Can you get it from him?”

“How? He always has half a dozen flunkies around.”

“I don’t know…sneak up and pick his pocket?”

“Dude I don’t even know what pocket it’s in. Or if it’s even IN a pocket.”

“Where else would it be?”

“I don’t know, anywhere else in this giant house?”

Afon sighed, and they stood there in silence for a moment. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll call V.”

——

Valentina tucked away her phone and considered. She could tell her boss she felt sick and needed the rest of the day off, but after that, what to do? She couldn’t just go to the mayor’s house and demand her brother—it would draw too much attention, and raise the question of why Afon’s sister was coming to get him instead of his mother or nanny. Could she pose as his mother? No, she was only sixteen, and even with makeup she couldn’t pass for more than twenty. Stepmother, maybe? Technically possible, but pushing it. And all the nannies were from Colony One and spoke perfect French. But maybe….

She pulled off her apron and strode out of the alley and in through the back door of the deli.

——

An hour later, a slim young man with elaborate Bowiesque makeup, aggressively impractical hair, and a jacket with collar points at right angles to reality arrived at the gate of the mayor’s mansion. The burly, scowling guard gasped in delight. “Mickey Ulish! Omigod! I lo—uh, my kids love your music. Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure thing, bro.” The young man signed the holodisk that the guard just happened to have his pocket because he was bringing it home for his daughter’s birthday, yes, his daughter had the same birthday as the mayor’s son, wasn’t that a coincidence. “I assume everything’s ready?”

The guard blushed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ulish, but there must be some mistake. You’re not on my guest list.”

“Oh, Mr. Novarich sent me as a surprise for his son. You mean he didn’t tell his wife?”

“They’re currently, uh, divorced.”

“Oh, too bad. Guess the wires crossed. So my band isn’t here then?”

“Your band?”

“You know…guitarist, bassist, drummer, accordion player, kaval player? Backup dancers? Sound guy?”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anything like that.”

Mickey Ulish pondered. “Well, I’ll have to make do then. I assume there’s a home karaoke system?”

——

Apraxia, a tall, serious girl of seventeen with straight black hair and a nose the society columns euphemistically described as 'aquiline,' descended the stairs and frowned at her half-brother. “Hayden, could you make your friends stop shrieking? I’m trying to study for an exam.”

He grabbed her elbow in a fit of uncharacteristic rapture. “Praxie, you are NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE who’s here.”

“Stop calling me that.” 

“No really. Guess!”

She folded her arms and sighed. “That kid Afon you keep talking about.”

“What? No! I mean yes he’s here, but that’s—no. Guess again.”

“The ghost of Karl Marx.”

“Praxieeee come _onnnn_. Do a real guess!”

Apraxia rubbed her forehead. “Your dad.”

“You are MEAN. It’s Mickey Ulish!”

“Pfft. As if.”

“It IS! Dad sent him because he’s on Earth and couldn’t be here!”

“Well where is he then?”

“He’s in the second floor guest room getting ready. He’s gonna be down soon!”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Praxie, I SAW him!”

“It’s probably an impersonator. I’m just going to get some tea and go back up.”

Hayden stamped his foot and sighed dramatically. “Fine! Then you’ll miss him and everyone will laugh at you.”

“I’ll live.” Apraxia grabbed a cup of juice instead and climbed back up the stairs. At the second floor, she paused, and instead of heading up to her room on the third floor, walked down the hallway to the guest room. She barged in without knocking, startling the occupant.

The alleged pop star quickly adjusted a crooked shoulder pad and strutted over to stand uncomfortably close. “Heyyyy, milashka. I didn’t know there’d be a beautiful girl here.”

Apraxia’s eyes widened, and she unconsciously straightened up to her full 177 cm height. “Back off, imposter, or I’ll throw my juice on you! It’s blueberry pomegranate!” 

The imposter tilted back a chiseled and heavily painted face, arms stretched wide and eyes closing in mock submission. “Rain your justice down on me.”

“I—uh…I just stopped by because my brother thinks you’re real. And of course you’re not.”

The black-fringed blue eyes opened and looked up at her. Mickey Ulish was DEFINITELY taller than this. “Who among us are truly real? Maybe we’ll meet tonight in the world of dreams.”

“I have a test tomorrow,” Apraxia blurted out, and bolted for the stairs.

Safely locked in her room, she pulled out her phone and texted her brother. _Hayden you dimwit, that’s a GIRL._

—

Hayden scowled. _UR JUST JEALOUS,_ he texted back. 

_Of WHAT?_

_Ur dad doesnt send u awesome birthday presents._

_She’s just an impersonator. And not very convincing either. Look how short she is!_

_Evry1s shorter than you, freak._

_Look at her hands. They’re small and delicate._

_Not evry1 has giant hands!!!!_

_And listen to her voice! It’s not deep enough, even though she’s trying to sound all sexy._

_Hes a tenor! not evry1 sings low!!! god Praxi ur so dumb! ur hair is long but ur mind is short!_

_That doesn’t even make sense._

_u don’t make sense! omg he’s starting the first song ggtg_

—

Hands sore from clapping and throat sore from screaming, Hayden ran up to the coolest guy in the world who was IN HIS LIVING ROOM. “MICKEY uh Mr. Ulish. Thank you for coming to my party.”

“No problem, bro. Happy to be here.”

“I’m sorry your backup band didn’t show up.”

“That’s all right. This is more chill—we’ve got more time to hang out.” Mickey Ulish patted him on the shoulder and it took all of Hayden’s self-control not to just literally _die_. Praxie was right about the hands, though. Could Mickey Ulish secretly be a _girl?_ That was ridiculous, right? It had to be. Praxie was just jealous and pissy as usual.

“So um, what do you like to do?” he asked. 

“Well, I’m usually pretty busy practicing and recording and touring, but when I have some free time I like riding my bike, working out, and um…not doing drugs.”

“Cool! Umm…” It couldn’t hurt to test him, could it? “ _I_ know you’re really strong but my dumb sister says you can’t do as many pushups as our guard Ivan.”

“You make your guard do pushups?” 

“Well sometimes he likes to, when there’s nothing going on.” Technically, Ivan would only do pushups if bribed with mini vodka bottles from his mom’s special private fridge, or for some reason when Praxie was around, but Mickey Ulish didn’t need to know that. 

“So how many can he do?”

Hayden thought fast. He’d seen Ivan do 40, but Ivan had huge arms and it probably wouldn’t be fair—or polite—to expect a smaller guy like Mickey Ulish to do that many. “Maybe uh…25? 30?”

Mickey Ulish glanced at the stairs, where Praxie was inexplicably lurking. “I can do more than that. Here, I’ll show you.” He dropped to the ground and started to do pushups all quick and springy, without grunting like Ivan did. It was interesting to watch, and apparently Praxie found it interesting too, because she drifted closer and kept glancing over out of the corner of her eye. 

He shifted to one-armed pushups(!), and then—wow!—some where he clapped his hands in mid-air! Hayden counted out loud, and he continued through 30, 35, 40, 45…

—

Apraxia couldn’t stand watching this anymore. She poked the imposter with her foot and said, “Don’t get too sweaty, _Mickey_. You wouldn’t want your makeup to run.”

“Praxie!” shrieked Hayden. “That’s rude!”

The imposter grinned up at her, eyes hidden under a curtain of slightly damp hair. “Don’t worry, it’s run-free. I am a little thirsty now, though. Do you have any water?”

“I’ll get some!” Hayden shouted, and ran off to the kitchen, apparently forgetting the beverage table. 

‘Mickey’ jumped up and extended a hand. “We met upstairs, but I never got to ask your name.”

She took it out of habit, then startled when ‘he’ brought it to ‘his’ painted lips. WHY. Why. Don’t react. “Apraxia.”

‘He’ raised a curious eyebrow. “Isn’t that some kind of neurological disorder?”

“Everyone asks that. It’s not after the disorder, it’s after a princess from some old fairy tale.” 

“Well, you _do_ look like a princess…a real one, from history, not some blonde clone.”

Apraxia had to force herself not to touch her own hair. “My father doesn’t believe in mods.”

“But your brother is modded, right? I assume he’s your brother, since everyone else here is a little boy.”

“He’s my half-brother. Our mother divorced my dad when I was six. And then she married Hayden’s dad, and divorced him a couple years ago. She gets bored easily, I guess. So yeah, he is modded.”

‘Mickey’ leaned against the wall. “So what is it like being an authentic Martian princess? Aren’t most of your friends modded?”

“Yeah. Kids used to make fun of me sometimes when we were little, but I beat them up and they stopped.”

“Haha. Good for you.”

“I don’t care that I don’t look like everyone else, but it is pretty hard in school sometimes. I have to study extra hard because everyone else has a photographic memory and only needs 5 hours of sleep.” What the—why was she saying all this.

Hayden ran back toward them. “Here’s your water Mr. Ulish! I put a lemon slice in it from a lemon from our lemon tree!”

“Lemon tree, nice! Thank you.” ‘He’ took an appreciative sip. 

“We have three lemon trees and, and four orange and a lime and a pomegranate and a fig and a grapefruit but the fig doesn’t make very good fruit so we make jam with it mostly! And the oranges are sour.”

“Hayden, you sound like you’re five years old,” Apraxia hissed. “Have some dignity.”

“I think fruit trees are exciting,” ‘Mickey’ said. “I never had any growing up.”

“But you still grew up so strong!” enthused Hayden. “See, Praxie?”

Apraxia folded her arms. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“What shall be my next trial then, your Highness? How can I prove myself to you?”

“Ugh, stop that. You can’t.”

Hayden interposed himself like a dog seeing another dog getting pats. “Mr. Ulish do you want to play Ichor Storm 5? I bet you’d kick butt at it!”

The imposter hesitated. “I should really—”

“Pleeeease? We can do turbo kill mode where you just kill as many aliens as you can in twenty minutes.”

‘He’ smiled. “All right.” 

Apraxia sighed and wandered off to get snacks. She might as well fortify herself; there was no way that she was going to learn anything if her brain was deprived of glucose. Besides, she might have to beat someone up later.

She bumped into one of Hayden’s little friends at the snack table, and he jumped half a meter in the air, apologized, asked her if she thought Mickey Ulish was going to perform soon, and then ran off down the basement stairs before she could answer. Weird. Nicer than some of them, though.

Her brother and the imposter, wearing those gross VR helmets that _never_ got cleaned, were prancing around shooting at nothing over by the tv, and had collected a coating of shouty boys like a magnet pulls in iron filings. There wasn’t much villainy the imposter could commit for the moment, so Apraxia went upstairs to get her notes.

She parked herself in an armchair in the corner where she could simultaneously study and keep an eye on the proceedings. “I can’t believe I’m wasting my time on this,” she muttered, absent-mindedly doodling the backside of someone who would remain nameless and in fact _had_ to remain nameless because she didn’t know ‘his’ name.

“Nice drawings!” The imposter was suddenly parked on the arm of her chair, close enough to radiate heat. 

Apraxia violently swiped aside the sketchpad window. “Did you kill a lot of alien civilians?” 

“Mostly alien gladiators. I thought you had to study?”

“I _am_ studying. But I have to keep an eye on my brother. No one else is doing it.” She realized belatedly that Hayden was nowhere in sight, but presumably he was making a bathroom run.

“I know how that is.” The imposter laid a warm hand on hers, and Apraxia looked up, about to say something cutting, but the pale blue eyes looking down at her were entirely sincere.

It was almost impossible to form words, but she’d had a lot of practice at speaking under pressure. “So where’s _your_ brother, then?”

‘Mickey’ hesitated. “Well…”

“You don’t know, do you?”

‘He’ bent down lower, ridiculous hair brushing her ear. “Can you keep a secret?”

“What are—”

“I’m serious. If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else. It’s really important.”

“See Praxie?” Hayden resurfaced. “Mr. Ulish totally kicked butt. There’s no way YOU could do that.”

“I could kick _your_ butt,” Apraxia told him.

“You could NOT. When have you ever kicked my butt?!”

“It would be beneath me. Literally.”

“I’m sure neither of you would ever kick the butt of a family member,” ‘Mickey’ said.

“I guess not.”

“ANYWAY Praxie you totally have to admit this is the real Mickey Ulish!”

“I don’t have to admit _anything_.”

“Yes you DO! He sang and did pushups and beat everyone’s high scores in Ichor Storm. What do you want him to do? Skateboard down the banister?”

“You can’t skateboard down the banister. It isn’t wide en—oh my god, what are you DOING?”

“I can slide down!” ‘Mickey’ shouted joyfully, charging up the stairs. “If I take my shoes off!”

Apraxia jumped up. “You are INSANE. Are you trying to break your neck?”

“Mr. Ulish are you sure? It’s really slippery!”

“Slippery is good! That way I won’t stick!” ‘Mickey’ tossed ‘his’ shoes aside and vaulted up onto the second floor railing, somehow not falling off immediately.

“Get down from there!” Apraxia shrieked. 

“I will in a moment!” ‘Mickey’ beamed at her and took a few steps backward along the railing. “This is kind of fun. I wonder if I can do a cartwheel…”

“Try it and I will MURDER you.” She instinctively moved under the railing, which was the stupidest thing she could have done, considering. It wasn’t even like bare feet on a balance beam; it was sock feet on smooth, polished wood. It made her teeth itch.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“I’ll…go away and stop talking to you!”

“Aww, don’t do that! I’ll come down.” ‘He’ walked quickly forward, tender mortal feet leaving brief kisses on the railing.

“Don’t—”

Apraxia lunged toward the stairs, but ‘Mickey’ was already sliding down the banister like some kind of insane indoor surfer. For a moment it looked like she was going to make it down safely, but then she teetered, flailing wildly as she toppled away from the stairs and plummeted into Apraxia’s arms. They slammed into the floor and slid a few more feet, landing in a heap halfway under the side table.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Everything was dark and loud and hot. All that mattered was catching the breath that had somehow escaped her and stuffing it back into her flattened lungs.

After a moment she felt someone else’s breath on her face. “Are—are you all right?”

Apraxia managed to turn her face aside before coughing. “I think so. You?”

“I’m fine. I feel…lucky.”

“I _bet_ you do. Idiot.”

“I also, um, feel kind of weird that we’re…like this and you don’t know my name. It’s, um, Valentina. Or Val. Or V. Whichever you like.” Her voice was a tickling, husky whisper, clearly not meant for the others.

“Okay.”

“And, uh, thanks for catching me.”

“Are you planning on getting off me anytime soon?”

“Sorry.” After some provocative yet painful wriggling, Apraxia could finally see daylight and move her limbs, and she suddenly realized that the background noise she’d been tuning out was the excited shrieks of Hayden and some of the other boys. 

“See Praxie I TOLD YOU! That was the coolest thing EVER! You HAVE to admit he’s the real thing now!”

Apraxia looked at Hayden’s anxious, shining face. It was the little twit’s birthday. What harm would it do? She sighed and said, “It appears I have misjudged you, Mr. Ulish. My apologies.”

“On the contrary, _I_ should apologize for my appalling behavior.” Valentina extended a hand and pulled Apraxia to her feet, but didn’t let go. 

“I forgive you. Just don’t do it again.”

“I promise.”

“Yay, wooo!” Hayden jumped up and down on the sofa. 

“So!” said Valentina after a moment. “I have time for one more song, but I’ve been thinking of adding something special to it. I know it’s a long shot, but I just thought I’d ask if there’s anyone here who knows how to do it. I thought maybe we could test it out and see how it sounds.”

“What is it?! I bet I could do it!” Hayden didn’t even stop bouncing.

“It’s overtone singing. Do you know how to do that?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay, can you do it now?”

“Wooooooooo—uh, ok, I guess I don’t really know how. I was just kidding.”

She turned and looked around the room. “Can anybody else do overtone singing?”

Nobody answered.

She cleared her throat. “Is there _anybody_ in this house who can do overtone singing?”

“Oh!” The boy Apraxia had run into at the snack table looked up from his phone. “Yeah! Afon knows how!”

“Great! So which one of you is Afon?”

There was a brief silence.

“He’s downstairs,” Hayden said finally. “I’ll go get him.” He jumped off the sofa and trotted away toward the basement. 

“So what was it you were going to tell me?” Apraxia asked in a low voice, patting down an overexcited lock of Valentina’s hair.

Valentina smiled. “There are too many people watching now. But uh…maybe if you gave me your number, I could tell you later?”

“Smooth. Very smooth.”

“Did it work?”

Apraxia let the corner of her mouth twitch slightly. “Maybe.”

—

Afon would probably have barfed if the _real_ Mickey Ulish had asked him to sing, but it was just V so it was fun. And he’d actually done overtone singing with this song before—a bunch of times!—so he didn’t have to make anything up on the spot. Everybody cheered for them and seemed impressed. V was so smart and cool! Even Hayden and his mean-looking sister liked her. Even Hayden’s _guard_ liked her.

Afterwards V had to pretend to leave—well, she _did_ actually leave but really she went and got changed and waited for him in a cafe a few blocks away—and he got to hang around the party with Athos for a while and try out the skateboard ramp and ride a pony and secretly shove a bunch of snacks in his backpack because there was no way Hayden and his sister could possibly eat even a tenth of what was left even if they ate nothing else for a week. Hayden was in a good mood and didn’t put him back in the dungeon, and even invited him over to go swimming next week.

It was more than enough to make up for being locked in the closet, and even that hadn’t been so bad with Athos texting him and sending him live footage of the party and sliding snacks under the door. He’d known V was on her way, and each of them had had their part in a cool super-secret plan with disguises and secret identities. Even though they were poor and had to live in their grandma’s apartment pretending she was alive and taking care of them, Afon knew he was the luckiest kid in the city, because he got to live with V.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to phloxpaniculata who helped me with boy culture details, and to violetnyte and goodyeartheshippycat who helped me with video game lore. 
> 
> I know that fanon height chart puts Valentina at 5'10" but no. Just no. I can't see it. Also there's zero evidence because you never see her next to anyone or anything.
> 
> Did V really need to be SO careful to avoid letting people see her pick up her brother? No. She's just (understandably) a little paranoid about that subject. 
> 
> The original story might be a bit obscure to non-Russian readers, so I'll summarize it here: Prince Vladimir is having a party, and this guy Staver boasts that his wife Vasilisa is the prettiest and smartest and the best at everything and she could fool everyone there. The prince throws him in the dungeon and orders his servants to go take all Staver's stuff and bring Vasilisa to him in chains.
> 
> Someone else gets there first and tells her, though, and she quickly cuts her hair, dresses up as a Tatar envoy, and rides off to the prince's castle to collect tithes for the Golden Horde. Depending on the version, a female family member of the prince (who may or may not be named Apraxia) tells the prince that the envoy is a woman. He tells her she's dumb ("your hair is long but your mind is short" is a direct quote!) but is troubled and decides to put the envoy through three tests of manliness, which she of course passes with flying colors. 
> 
> Knowing that her husband is famous for his musical skills, Vasilisa tells the prince that they have plenty of wealth back in the Golden Horde, but what they could really use is a musician, and if he can provide a good one that will be the only tribute he needs. The prince agrees and gives her Staver, who like every fairy tale significant other is too dopey to recognize her. She has to tell him who she is, and he says, "So what happened to your long braids then?"
> 
> "I used them to haul you out of the pit, dumbass!"
> 
> Then she reveals her identity to everyone, a good laugh is had by all, the prince sends them home with presents, the end.
> 
> Probably obvious, but:
> 
> Vasilisa: Valentina  
> Staver: Afon/Helios  
> Prince Vladimir: Hayden  
> Apraxia: Praxis  
> assorted servants and henchmen: Ivan


End file.
